


All the World's Her Stage

by AndThatWasEnough, DYlogger



Category: Supernatural, Wayward Sisters (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mini Bang, Musical References, Musicals, Post-Episode: s13e10 Wayward Sisters, Season/Series 13, Season/Series 13 Spoilers, Theatre, Wayward Daughters, Wayward Sisters Big Bang, and mamma mia!, but don't worry - this isn't an AU, bye bye birdie anyone?, guys there are actually so many references to so many things in here, musical theatre, sort of nebulous time frame, takes place after Wayward Sisters but before Jack and Mary are rescued, totally in-universe, wsbb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 18:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15914139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndThatWasEnough/pseuds/AndThatWasEnough, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DYlogger/pseuds/DYlogger
Summary: Jody was clearly scheming.  She wanted her to stay. She wanted her to keep her options open.  She wanted them to be a family again.  Claire knew all that.  What she wasn’t expecting was that scheme involved a foray into the world of musical theatre.





	All the World's Her Stage

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Wayward Sisters Big Bang, so there's more wonderful stories and art from others coming your way!
> 
> Happy reading :)

xXx

Sioux Falls was your typical small town (well, mostly typical).  All the kids went to one of three elementary schools, and they all funneled through the same junior high and high school.  It was a town where everybody knew everybody’s business; one where groups of old men would gather each morning at the only McDonald’s and talk about the farm and weather reports; one where women cliqued together and held “ _book club_.”  It was a town where they boasted the good – prize winners at the state fair, graduates going to out-of-state colleges – and buried deep, deep down all the bad.

And the bad was pretty bad.

(Maybe it was okay that they didn’t talk about it.)

But anyways, Sioux Falls was a small town just like the ones you see in the movies.  Picture-perfect Americana.  A Bruce Springsteen wet dream. 

Well.  According to Claire.

“’Bruce Springsteen wet dream,’” Jody repeated wryly.  ” _Colorful_.”

Claire looked pleased with herself.  She made a show of slowly sucking a spaghetti noodle into her mouth, complete with sucking sound effects.  Alex and Patience both rolled their eyes; this was better than the brooding she usually did, but not by much.  The two girls exchanged a look, Alex ever-so-slightly shaking her head; this, she supposed, was progress.

“If you hate it here so much, then why do you stay?” Alex asked, trying to get under her surrogate sister’s craw.  Which, she had to admit, was much too easy to do.  Claire scowled.

“I don’t hate it _here_ ,” Claire said emphatically, gesturing to their house.  “And I don’t exactly _hate_ Sioux Falls.  It’s just…boring,” she shrugged.  “I mean, c’mon, Patience,” she said, turning to their newest family member, “you’re from Atlanta, right?”

Patience hesitated for just a moment.  “Well.  Just outside it.”

“But isn’t it more interesting there than it is here?”

Well, Patience wasn’t so sure about that.  Atlanta didn’t have a portal to another dimension or whatever open up and dump out monsters that she and her family then had to take care of.  Well, that’s what she hoped, at least.  “I guess.”  She almost made a quip along the lines of why doesn’t she just watch Donald Glover’s _Atlanta_ , but she bit her tongue.  “But what about the Hellmouth?”  Patience felt proud of her little _Buffy_ reference, even if no one gave her even a pity laugh.

“That’s work,” Claire shrugged. 

Alex slid her eyes over to look at Claire.  “Thought you liked the work.”

“I _do_ \- !”

“ _Alright_.”  Jody held up a hand, trying placate them before anything got out of hand.  It hadn’t exactly gotten all that heated yet, but she knew her girls, those two especially.  Things could escalate quickly, and often did.  If she needed any more proof from the universe that these two were destined to be sisters, then the fighting was definitely a cosmic reminder.  Jody trained her eyes back on Claire.  “You’re restless.  I get it.”

She actually didn’t.  She’d been a resident of Sioux Falls nearly her entire life and had dedicated her career to protecting it.  But then again, she’d been here so long, she could easily see its shortcomings, and how Claire would be able to pick them apart.  Jody knew what it was like to be a big-picture person in a small town.  But that didn’t mean she wanted to leave. 

Some days, she figured the only thing keeping Claire here was the Hellmouth.  Not any of them.

xXx

“I think I’ve found something for you.”

Claire cut her eyes over to Jody.  _Found something for you?_ What the hell?  Claire really needed to find a way out of dish duty because Jody was using the time to pick at her brain, which she wasn’t sure she could take much more of.  Ever since the thing with the Bad Place and Kaia, everyone had been tiptoeing around Claire like she was a bomb that was going to explode at any moment.  In reality, there had been just a series of small explosions.  Nothing detrimental – but just annoying enough that she could sense everyone getting fed up with her.

“Wasn’t looking for anything,” Claire shrugged as she dried.

“Didn’t need to be.  The local playhouse is putting on _Bye Bye Birdie_ , and they need a stage manager, someone with good leadership skills.  Thought it might be a good opportunity for you, something fun to do for a little while.”

Something fun.  What, like researching alternate dimensions and how to get to them wasn’t fun?  Plotting vengeance _wasn’t fun?_ Pssht.  And it wasn’t like Claire had any experience whatsoever with the theatre.  At all.  She didn’t even really like plays.  Or, at least, she didn’t think she did.  She didn’t listen to musicals or whatever.  Alex seemed to be into _Dear Evan Hansen_ and _Great Comet_ or whatever that one was called, and Patience had mentioned that _Mean Girls_ was getting a musical now, too.  Claire hadn’t really kept up with pop culture the last few years, but of course she knew _Mean Girls_.  Patience sometimes came across as one.  Like Gretchen Wiener, maybe.  But more importantly, Claire knew nothing about how to put on a play, let alone what a stage manager did.

“You think I have good leadership skills?” Claire asked, hating how small her voice sounded.  Jody nodded with enthusiasm.

“I do!  I really do.”

Claire could see what Jody was doing.  She could see _exactly_ what Jody was doing.  She was redirecting her; steering her towards something she considered productive, something that wasn’t hunting.  She’d noticed Jody subtly trying to do this ever since Kaia had died and Claire had decided to stay, like Claire’s decision meant that she’d given Jody permission to start mothering her all over again.

“I think it sounds like a great opportunity,” Jody continued.  “The director is the theatre teacher over at the high school, very nice.”

It didn’t matter how nice the lady was.  Well, actually, maybe it did because as soon as she met Claire and was face-to-face with Sheriff Mills’ surly surrogate daughter, this so-far-nameless theatre teacher would probably tell her to turn tail.  “What happened to the old stage manager?”

“Didn’t say.  Just know she needs one.  They have practice tomorrow.  I can drive you over and introduce you, and then you can start learning the ropes.”

Of course Jody would be driving her – that way, she could ensure that she stayed.  No escaping.  This supposedly-casual proposal was now coming through clearly as something Jody had thought out very well.  Claire had to be a little impressed; she was also a little embarrassed for a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on.  Maybe because it suggested that Jody didn’t trust her, and Claire could see why; she just wasn’t happy about it.

“I know what you’re doing,” Claire said, probably not being as careful with that plate as she should have been.  “I can see right through it.”

She expected to get scolded (and really, she was too old to be getting scolded, but Jody didn’t seem to care about that), but Jody just chuckled, sounding oh-so pleased with herself.  “I don’t think so,” she said.  “Look – just give it a try.  It’s a chance to help someone in the community out.  I thought you liked helping people?”

Oh, that was _dirty_.  That was _low_.  Because yeah, Claire liked helping people.  She liked chopping off vamp heads and flambéing wendigoes – stuff she knew how to do.  “Well, _duh_ ,” she said.  “When their lives are in danger.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find this just as satisfying, even if no one’s life is in danger.”  Jody sighed, but when Claire didn’t say anything, she felt Jody put her hand on her shoulder.  Claire turned her head, but couldn’t quite make eye contact.  “I just thought you might be good at it.”

Claire knew that tone, the defeated one.  She’d heard it from her surrogate mother plenty of times before, and had the feeling this wouldn’t be the last time.  Jody was trying, which was more than Claire was able to say for herself.  Jody gently patted her shoulder and left Claire to finish (another sneaky move).  The girl sighed and finished putting away the dishes, then stared out the kitchen window.  The western sky got dark in a way that it just didn’t get anywhere else.  It was a stark contrast to the faintly-flickering fluorescence of the kitchen.  In the back of her mind, Claire knew that somewhere out there was Kaia’s killer.  Somewhere out there, the rift’s leftovers were lurking in the shadows.  There was real danger out there, real problems to be solved, real people to be saved…

…and Jody wanted her to help out with some stupid play.

Something like that was a part of Alex’s definition of a “ _real life_ ”, or Patience’s.  Jody had been trying for years to get Claire to “keep her options open.”  Sam had said the same, that she wouldn’t get a chance like this again, but he’d been talking about school.  Claire had given up on that particular venture.  She’d found something.

She’d found something.

And so that night, for reasons she herself didn’t quite understand, as Jody was getting ready to go to bed, Claire told her she would do it.  The little grin on Jody’s face almost made it worth it.

xXx

“This is so exciting, isn’t it?  I think I’m excited _for_ you.”

Claire’s heart was thrumming in her ears, nearly tuning out Jody’s gushing.  This was stupid, wasn’t it?  This was stupid!  Claire knew nothing about how any of this was supposed to work.  She didn’t even really like plays.  Jody, Donna, Patience, and even Alex were getting excited for the _Mamma Mia!_ sequel coming out over the summer, and Claire knew that was an ABBA jukebox romp about a girl with three dads or whatever, but she’d never heard of _Bye Bye Birdie_ or had any idea what a stage manager was even supposed to do.

Well.

That wasn’t completely true; last night, she’d googled what a stage manager was.  From what she could tell, they were pretty damn important, so Jody and this theatre teacher were crazy if they were thinking she could do this.  Seriously!  They had to be uber organized and get there early and stay late.  They had to take notes about something called “blocking” and “marks” and were in charge of telling everybody when to get ready to go on stage.  The only part of the whole job that sounded even remotely in her wheelhouse was that she was responsible for everyone’s safety: knowing all the fire escape routes and exits, making sure things are secured, knowing what to do in case of such-and-such event.  That she could handle.  The rest of it? 

_The rest of it?_

Forget the rest of it.  Claire knew nothing of art. 

Jody drove down a dirt road which at the front had a sign that boasted it led to the “Sioux Falls Playhouse”, and Claire thought immediately it was pretty weird that the “ _playhouse”_ (which had to be the stupidest name for a theatre ever) was sitting on old farmland.  Then again, it wasn’t like Sioux Falls, South Dakota was a mecca for the arts.

“Cute, right?” Jody asked, smiling fondly, and Claire was pretty sure that was the first time she’d ever heard the woman use that word.  It seemed much too gentle for her.

“I guess,” Claire shrugged.  “Why’s it all the way out here?”

“Dunno.  It’s just always been here,” Jody said.

Huh.  Claire had never even noticed the side road to get to it before, but to be honest, there was a lot about Sioux Falls that she hadn’t noticed.  When she was first here, she spent almost all her time at the house, sometimes running a few errands for Jody.  Then she’d tried school, but both the nag of needing to go out and hunt and the weird stares she got from these hicktown community college losers was enough to get to her.  She’d seen the police station, of course, as both a free woman and a jailbird.  And then she left.  Now that she was back, she was back to sticking close to Jody’s again – when she wasn’t hunting, that is – and sometimes visiting Alex at the hospital.  Both Alex and Patience got out a lot more than Claire did.  Patience sometimes tagged along with Claire when she went on errands for Jody, but she also had made a couple friends of her own at the high school, like Alex had.  The two of them…they were like chameleons.  They found a way to fit.

“The director’s name is Linda Carlisle, and she’s a little older, but she keeps on her toes,” Jody told Claire as they walked up to the playhouse.  Jody had parked pretty near the street, and in the grass.  The area was removed from town a bit, and reminded Claire a bit of rural Illinois.  That was the thing about the Midwest: as soon as you got out of the major metropolitan areas, it all quickly became the country.

“Got it,” Claire sighed, again knowing what Jody was getting at.  Seems Linda Carlisle had been warned she might have to keep an eye on the wayward girl.

Linda was pretty easy for Claire to spot just going off the brief description, even though she’d never seen the woman before.  She was best described as matronly-looking, with thick glasses and a content smile and that curly hairdo that older ladies always seem to have.  Her fingers were looking a little crooked, maybe a touch arthritic, and they flipped through the pages of a large binder.  Jody nudged Claire and pointed her out, and the two women made their way over to where Linda was sitting in the audience seating.

“Linda, I’d like you to meet Claire,” Jody introduced, and Linda stood up with a smile on her face.  

“My new stage manager?” Linda asked, the question directed at Claire.  Claire did her best to smile back.

“So I’ve heard.”

Linda laughed and gave Claire a much heartier handshake than she’d been expecting, sort of catching her by surprise.  “A good sense of humor!  Jody, where _do_ you find these wonderful young women?”

Jody looked a tad wistful.  “Ah…here and there.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Linda went on.  “And from what Jody has told me, you’re going to be perfect for the job.  Sheriff, I think I’m just gonna go right ahead and get her started now.  Good?”  Jody left them to it, and Claire was left to wonder just how much exactly this Linda Carlisle knew about her, and what lies Jody had told to get her this gig.  Things were already looking shaky to the girl, and then Linda cheerfully thrust that huge binder she’d been flipping through at her.  So this was _hers_.

“Oh, wow...”

“Now, I know it looks a bit daunting, but believe me, it looks scarier than it is.  I just went ahead and took the liberties of arranging it so that each page of the script is on its own separate sheet, single-sided for notes, and I’ve included the cast list, number list, and a list of emergency procedures.”  Well, crap.  The one thing Claire would’ve been able to be figure out for herself and it’s already done for her.  “So, were you involved in theatre in school?  Or – wait, are you in college?  Stage management is a major, ya know!” 

Claire shuffled along awkwardly behind her.  “Uh…not exactly.  Jody, uh, Sheriff Mills said she thought I might be…good at it,” Claire said honestly, not finding herself able to lie.  Maybe it was because of Linda Carlisle’s abundance of enthusiasm and too-obvious kindness. 

“Well, there’s always a first time for everything!”  Linda stopped suddenly on their way backstage and shot her a conspiratorial smile.  “Between you and me, I’m just awfully glad someone with your leadership skills is here.  I’ve been desperate for someone with a little moxie.”

 _Moxie?_   And seriously, what the hell had Jody told this woman about her?

In the hour leading up to rehearsal, Claire was told about a million different things concerning this production, from something called blocking, to who was playing who and a list of the numbers, and something else called choreo.  Essentially, everything Claire needed to know was in this magic binder that Linda had given her.  It didn’t prepare her for having to introduce herself to the rest of the cast and crew come rehearsal, and these small town thespians looked at her like she’d crawled out of a hole in the ground, and with no small measure of skepticism.  _Pfft_.  They were acting like this was Broadway, and it _so_ wasn’t, so they needed to get some perspective.  But it still didn’t make her feel too great about herself, and neither did the mistakes she inevitably made.  Linda was encouraging the whole time, but the look on the actors’ faces pissed her off to no end, and Claire almost opened a can of whoopass on her.  Or, quit.

But if she quit, they’d all win.  And she’d be letting Jody down.  _Again_.

So that night, Claire did her research.

It was just like when she was working a case and needed to know the ins and outs of the monster before she could gank it.  For this, she needed to know the ins and outs of _Bye Bye Birdie_ and know it like she knew werewolves and vampires and angels.  Research she could do.  It was becoming second nature to her now, and if she’d stuck with school, the skill probably would’ve aided her tremendously. 

She learned that the play was by Gower Champion, premiered in 1960, and starred Dick Van Dyke and Chita Rivera.  It was inspired by Elvis being drafted just a few years earlier, and was about a singer named Conrad Birdie (a play on some guy named Conway Twitty).  Conrad gets drafted, and his songwriter, Albert Peterson, and Albert’s secretary, Rosie Alvarez, come up with a stunt for him to sing to a contest winner on television – _The Ed Sullivan Show_ \- before he gets sent off to get some last-minute profits from record sales.  Then somewhere in suburbia, some girl named Kim gets a steady named Hugo (yuck!) but she’s the contest winner, so she’s going to have Conrad Birdie singing to her on national television, and there’s some weird love triangle.  _But,_ Claire thought, _who is Kim kidding?  She’s not gonna get with a rock star she just met_. 

After the initial research, she knew the plot, but now it was time to immerse herself.  She got on YouTube and found the original Broadway soundtrack.  She put on her headphones, lay back on her bed, and started the playlist.  She listened to it once, then she started it over again.  Then one more time, all the way through.  Three times.  Three times through was enough for her to be able to start anticipating lines ahead of time in a few of the catchiest songs.  Three times through was enough for her to start matching her notes and stage directions and choreography notes to the song.  Three times through was enough to get it stuck in her head. 

Three times through was enough for her to actually start to like it!

xXx

From that point on, things were different.

From that point on, it wasn’t what _did_ Claire know, it was what _didn’t_ Claire know.  Linda handing her that binder was like when Dean gave her that lore book on angels: from that point on, she was unstoppable, dammit!  She knew cues, she knew blocking, she knew choreo, she knew the order of the numbers, she knew _everything_.  (Well.  She didn’t really know everyone names.  She knew their character names, so the people in the chorus were screwed.)  She was the all-knowing stage manager.  She was a theatrical goddess – well, in a small town way. 

“So how did you even get this job if you don’t have any experience?” The would-be Kim asked her once as they were waiting in the wings.  She asked it in a very pseudo-polite way, and Claire could see right through it, but chose – for once – to take the high road. 

“I was recommended for it,” Claire answered, keeping herself in check and inserting just a _little_ bit of confidence in there.  Pseudo-Kim slowly smiled at her, a simpering little thing, and all Claire could think was that this chick needed to get her ego in check - she was only technically a _secondary_ lead.

“You’re staying with Sheriff Mills, aren’t you?” the Pseudo-Kim asked.  “She’s such an asset to the community, isn’t she?  Taking in charity cases.  It’s really sweet of her.”

Claire felt her face heating up, but all she said was, “Your marking tape is the _yellow_ one.  Try hitting it this time?”  Pseudo-Kim shot her an icy stare, and Claire just tightly smirked and gave her a single nod in the direction of the stage, nonverbally telling her that she’d better get her ass out there, and she’d better hit her mark.  And she didn’t that time, but something told Claire that she would, eventually.  Claire turned over her shoulder.  “Alright, Hugo!  _Green_ tape, man!”  Claire watched as Pseudo-Hugo ran by her – he was always late – and onto the stage. 

And then Claire waited in the wings and continued to orchestrate.

She’d show ‘em.

xXx

When the text from Castiel finally came, like she knew it would, Claire found herself wondering what in the hell had taken him so long.  She was going back and forth between fashioning herself a new fake Feeb badge and going over her stage notes when her phone pinged.  So she set down her crafting and turned away from her notes and checked her notification, which read:

** Castiel **

_ secs ago:  _

_I would like to see your play :)_

Claire froze for a moment.  She wondered who had told him because she certainly hadn’t.  It could’ve been anyone, really, though she doubted Patience or Alex.  One of the other adults in her life, probably.  Traitors, the lot of them.  Claire just shook her head before responding.

_What play?_

She watched the little bubble pop up as Cas typed.  Claire smirked; that had probably confused him.  For sure.  And she didn’t mean any harm – just wanted to have a little bit of fun with him, is all.

_Sam said Jody said you were in a play.  Is this not true?  I wouldn’t expect either of them to lie.  That would be too bad, I was looking forward to it…:(_

Ah-ha!  So it _was_ Jody who had told.  She then told Sam, or maybe Sam and Dean, and Sam had mentioned it to Cas.  Mystery solved.  Goofing around sure did pay off sometimes.

 _I’m kidding.  But I’m not actually in the play, I’m just the stage manager.  It’s sorta my job to make sure everything is going smoothly.  So, kinda like a director, but not really.  I’m more hands-on during the actual production, like on the actual night of the performance_.

_I see.  That is quite the undertaking.  What is the play?_

_Bye-Bye Birdie.  It’s a musical._

_I have not heard of this play.  And musicals are the ones with singing and dancing, yes?_

_…yes_

_So like “Fiddler on the Roof”?_

_Yes_

_That sounds very fun!  I will be there :)_

Cas then proceeded to send her a bunch of emojis.  Mostly hearts and smiley faces and a few music notes thrown in for good measure.  Claire shook her head; figures the only musical he’d ever heard of was _Fiddler on the Roof_.  She’d really pinned him as more of a _Jesus Christ Superstar_ type.

xXx

It was an every day sort of thing.

Well, they got Sundays off.  Linda Carlisle wasn’t exactly a taskmaster, but it was becoming clear to Claire that small town or not, Linda knew what she was doing.  There was unmined talent all over the country, and that was the truth.  There were people who could do remarkable things of all sorts that for whatever reason would always be exactly where they were and where they always had been, forever.  Maybe they were okay with that, though.  Claire had never had the kind of stability in her life – at least, not in a very long time – that allowed her the luxury to decide if she liked where she was.  She never had a choice.  But, she grudgingly admitted to herself (but no one else), maybe Jody was trying to give her that.

Damn Jody Mills.

 _God_ damn Jody Mills.

For loving her, and shit.

Anyways – the play.

Things were coming together.  Claire lived in her headset.  People were slowly learning their blocking, and having the tape pulled away.  Like ripping off a Band-Aid, but slowly, which meant it was a bit painful to watch, but at least they were getting there.  The costume and makeup people deferred to Claire and practically revered her, could barely look her in the eye for her commanding presence as they handed over their plans for each actor.  And speaking of the actors, a few of them were warming up to her.  The lame-o’s in the chorus, the underlings, especially, probably because they hated Pseudo-Kim as much as Claire did.  Pseudo-Kim seemed jealous of the fact that Pseudo-Hugo seemed to be warming up to Claire and try to talk to her in the wings as he’d wait to go on, and sometimes Claire would reciprocate, just to piss of Pseudo-Kim (at least, that’s what she told herself.)

It was all-consuming.  She talked about it at dinner, about the goods and the bads.  Patience and Jody always listened, and Alex sometimes teased, but in a sisterly way that Claire couldn’t bring herself to mind.  Yes, it was taking up a lot of her time, this play.  It was taking up so much time, she hadn’t thought of looking for a hunt, for Kaia’s killer, in much too long.  She had been too preoccupied.

Claire got the feeling that was what Jody was going for.

xXx

_I heard you were helping out with a play_

_Yeah.  Bye-Bye Birdie_

_Sounds fun!  Ya know, when I was in high school, I was kinda a theatre kid.  I played the stage manager in Our Town and did tech for Oklahoma_

_That’s pretty cool_

_Yeah, guess it was.  Anyway, since I heard you were doing the techier stuff (stage manager, in fact!!), I might be able to answer any questions you might have_

_Do you know anything about being an ACTUAL stage manager?_

_Uh.  Not really.  Sorry_

_That’s okay_

_I think we’re all planning to come see it, though!  I know Cas is super excited.  Dean likes to pretend he’s not.  I don’t think he’s really a musical guy (except for Fiddler for some reason???) but he’s excited to see what you pull off :)_

_Yeah – me too_

xXx

It was Patience’s idea to watch the movie.  Because of course it was.  She actually went out to Walmart and bought the DVD because it wasn’t on Netflix or anything because who the fuck watches _Bye-Bye, Birdie_ anymore.  She came home looking all proud of her find, and it was _totally_ the only reason she’d gone out because it was the only thing she’d come back with.  Well, that wasn’t totally true; she’d come back with popcorn, too, but it was all a part of it.  This movie night had clearly been planned. 

“Planned movie nights are kinda stupid,” Claire said.

“Sure, but I thought it’d be good for research.  And research is important,” Patience rebutted with a smirk. 

Patience also had Donna on her side, who had come down to Sioux Falls early, using up a few of her vacation days to just “ _hang”_ and come see the play.  Donna was all for the movie night.  She was all for getting in her PJ’s and popping popcorn – one bowl salted, one bowl salted _and_ with M&M’s – and gathering around Jody’s TV to watch the 1963 musical romp and learn how to do the Birdie.  Donna was all for the girly things that Claire hadn’t bothered to enjoy in a long time, and the stuff that Alex had never really been able to get into, and the stuff that Patience already missed.  And Jody?  Jody just liked to pretend that they were normal sometimes.

(Even though they were _so not normal_.)

“That is a shitload of popcorn,” Alex mumbled to Claire when Donna came traipsing out with two gigantic bowls filled to overflowing with the stuff. 

“Alright – we got salty, and sweet-‘n’-salty.  Who wants to be the bearers of the bowls?”

Donna ended up, appropriately, with the sweet-‘n’-salty, and none of the girls wanted to have that much responsibility, so Jody got stuck with just the plain salty.  Patience reverently put the DVD into the player, like she was carrying out some sort of super important ritual.  She hit play and the five of them sat back and watched Ann-Margret dance around and say goofy shit, and what was up with her voice anyways?  And Claire could only dream of their production’s Conway Birdie being as swaggering and Elvis-like as the one in the movie.  She also thought it was pretty weird that the only person that the movie had kept from the original play was Dick Van Dyke, and traded in Chita Rivera for some white lady named Janet Leigh, so any discussions about race were completely erased.  And the songs were good, but about half of the originals were missing.  But Bobby Rydell was sort of cute, in a big-nose sort of way.  And “The Telephone Hour” was still a bop.

“We should do this more often,” Donna said once it was over.  “Didja like it?”

Claire was once again stuck cleaning up, but at least there was less of a mess this time.  And Donna was…well, she was great.  That simple.  Even Claire could see that.  “Yeah,” she shrugged.  “It’s different.”

“In what ways?”

Donna’s question had opened a floodgate inside of Claire, and suddenly she was word-vomiting all over the place, telling Donna every little thought she’d had and every comparison she’d made.  The older woman nodded along and listened long after the dishes were done.  When she was able to get a word in edgewise, Donna said, “Ya know, there are people whose whole job is to just do research.  Ya know that?”  Claire didn’t know that; she shook her head.  “Yeah, for the FBI, the CIA, police…all over the place.  I mean, we’re not just talkin’ eggheads writin’ books about dead guys.  It’s like what you do with all those lore books of yers.”

So Jody had gotten to Donna.

“That’s cool and all, but I mean, I wasn’t that good at school.”

“Because ya got moved around a lot.  Circumstance, kiddo.”

“Yeah, but I’m still not all _that_ smart.

Donna twisted her lips and stacked the popcorn bowls back into the cabinet, knowing she had to approach this topic with great care.  She’d paused so long before she spoke again that Claire jumped a little.  “This world we live in…” she sighed, “it’s a real crapshoot.  We’re all born with somethin’ that makes us just a little bit different, a little bit special, but not all of us get to show it because, well, life’s a bit unfair sometimes, ain’t it?  It’s sometimes like the universe wants to keep ya down.”

Claire snorted.  “Yeah, hear that.” 

Donna smiled a bit, then turned serious.  “But, Claire?  You _are_ that smart.”

xXx

_What play are you doing again?_

_Bye-Bye Birdie_

_Lame.  Shoulda done Fiddler_

_Somehow I knew you’d say that…_

xXx

Claire was becoming more and more convinced that they weren’t going to pull this off.

The first act wasn’t the problem.  According to Linda, the first act usually went very smooth.  The _problem_ was the _second_ act.  They went into intermission, and it all fell apart, they lost the momentum.  It was getting sloppy.  Claire was working overtime trying to keep the transitions tight and making sure everyone was in their places, but Claire could only get them halfway.  She wasn’t the one in charge of making sure their lipstick wasn’t smudged onto their teeth or making sure their choreography was clean and that they were hitting their notes with the proper breathing. 

The final night of rehearsals naturally went late, but Jody was extremely chipper when she picked up Claire.  It would’ve been more suspicious if Claire didn’t already figure that the Winchesters and Castiel were in town, would probably make some sort of quip about Jody seeing a new guy or something, but instead she got in the truck and started complaining, but not about anything off the usual menu.  It wasn’t about how lame Sioux Falls was, it wasn’t about how for the millionth time she wished that Jody would just loosen her hold on her and let her just _hunt_ , it was about how the Conrad Fangirls were still a bit pitchy, and the dance break for “Got a Lot of Livin’ to Do” was still sketchy, and how the people she had on curtain were either _always_ early or _always_ late.  Claire could swear she could see Jody smirking as she bitched.  Because, Claire supposed, this was _normal_ bitching.

Jody optimistically told her that she just needed to relax, that everything was going to be fine, that they’d all put in so much hard work (at this, Claire scoffed, because if she were being honest, it was _her_ who was doing all the hard work.  And Linda), and that she should just sit in front of the TV and wait for dinner. 

Jody’s kitchen seemed to emit a sort of siren song, a metaphorical dinner bell ringing that called to the boys and turned the Mills house into something out of _Little House on the Prairie_.  The old Impala thundered down the road and up the driveway, and Donna yelled, “Aw, lookit what the tide washed in!”  And suddenly Dean was in her face.

“I’m tellin’ ya, Claire, there is only _one_ – count ‘em _one_ – good musical, and that’s – “

“Dean,” Sam cut in.  “Shut the fuck up.”  He smiled at Claire.  “So?  How’s the play goin’?”

That was a loaded question, and everybody got a loaded answer at dinner, one that made Alex roll her eyes because they’d all heard it before, but she seemed to have forgotten about Sam and Dean and Cas –

Oh.

And speaking of Castiel.

He’d just sorta hovered awkwardly, not really knowing anybody in the Mills household besides Claire.  And Donna nearly pounced on him once she found out who and _what_ he was.  They were an odd pair, one in which Donna did nearly all the talking, but it was sort of endearing how it hadn’t even stunted the sheriff when she’d found out.  Donna could roll with the punches.

“She’s a very kind woman,” Castiel told Claire later.  They were sitting together on the porch.  Claire was trying to think about anything else but the play.  Cas liked stargazing.  It was a win-win.  He showed her a few constellations, and a few of his favorite stars, but they seemed to be visible only to his angel-vision.  But Claire nodded along anyway.

“Yeah,” Claire sighed.  “She is.”

“I’ve been doing research on other musicals,” Cas told her, looking a little proud of himself, but in a sort of sweet, quiet way.  Damn him for endearing her, especially walking around like that – looking like her father – but there was something about Castiel that was so purely, genuinely himself that it made her heart ache.  “There are so many, many more than I could have imagined.  Sometimes, when I’m driving, or when I’m awake at night and everyone else is asleep, I will listen to one – several, sometimes.  I find I am more suited to the older ones, of a more classical era, but I enjoy the others, too.”

Claire was trying _so_ hard not to smile.  “Which are your favorite?”

Cas pondered, did that head-tilt thing he always did.  “Well, I enjoy Gilbert and Sullivan, but that’s more operatic… _My Fair Lady_ has a beautiful score.  Julie Andrews plays the queen in that movie you told me about, what was it?”

Claire felt a little embarrassed.  “Uh.  _The Princess Diaries_.”

“Yes!  Well, I enjoy that one, and I really enjoyed _Mamma Mia._ ”

Well, whaddya know.  “You do?” Claire raised an eyebrow.  “For real.  You like it?  It’s like…just ABBA songs.”

“Yes,” Cas said simply.  “Unlike Dean, Sam and I do not believe that disco sucks.  And Meryl Streep is wonderful.”

Okay.  She couldn’t help it.  The grin threatened to split her face in half.  Imagine that – an ABBA-loving angel of the lord.  The Universe was a funny place.  “Yeah, she is,” she said, voice weak from withholding laughter. 

“What I also enjoy about it is how much it reflects real life.”

Now that was funny.  Claire couldn’t help but laugh a little bit.  “Seriously?  Sophie has like…three dads.  And there’s spontaneous dancing and singing.  How the hell is that like real life?”

“Well, because it made me think of you, and how Sam, Dean, and I care for you like Sophie’s ‘fathers’”- He pulled out the air-quotes – “and you’ve got a mother figure in Jody.”

“Cas, are you saying I’ve got three dads?”

They were silent for a moment.  Cas looked out at the starry night sky.  Heavenward.  Then, “Yes.”

xXx

For the first time in recent memory, Claire felt plain.

She and the rest of the crew were wearing all black, but Claire had – for whatever stupid reason – decided that maybe a little bit of light makeup would be appropriate for the occasion.  Most of Claire’s stuff leaned more towards the smoky eye, dark lip, woman of mystery affect, so she had raided Patience and Alex’s stashes for something that was probably deemed more respectable, less emo tramp.  She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail, shimmied into some leggings and quiet shoes, and drove herself over to the playhouse with her binder in tow.  It was like gearing up for a hunt.  She was feeling like she maybe had a handle on this.  Maybe.  And maybe they’d just pull this off.  But, of course, if they didn’t, it would be all Claire’s fault.  Because it would be.  Because these people were depending on her.

Anyway, back to the feeling plain thing.

So she and the rest of the techies were in all black, but the first person she saw was the girl playing Kim, and she was surprised at just how closely she resembled a streetwalker with the amount of makeup she had on.  Hell, even Conrad Birdie was wearing a pretty thick layer of foundation, making him a Donald Trump shade of orange, and was that…a hint of lip gloss?  Yes, it was.  Whatever.  She wasn’t here to judge; she was here to do a job.  Claire _was_ a pragmatist in some ways, no matter what Jody told you.

As soon as she walked in the door, though, she had to shake off these thoughts and get to work. 

“Alright, everyone should be in hair and makeup!  Where are our Conrad fangirls?  They’re in the overture!  Hey, where are my curtain people?  And light crew, they need to head for the catwalk.  Now, people!”

She had butterflies in her stomach.

No – scratch that.

She had giant vampire bats flying around in her stomach.

It was stupid, really, that Claire would actively seek out danger, could kill vampires and werewolves and monsters oh my, but was letting this silly little play get to her.

She wondered where her family was sitting.

She wondered what they would think of it.

“Claire.”

She turned around.  It was Linda, looking much more put-together than she did.  Linda was lucky – there wasn’t much left for her to do now except watch the show.  Claire still had to get everyone in place.  “What’s up?”  Claire heard people chattering in her headset; Pseudo-Kim had lost an earring.  _Fantastic_.

Linda grinned.  “Ready?”

What the fuck?  Claire thought she had something _important_ to say to her.  “Uh.  Yeah.  We are.”  Ooh, how easily that _we_ slipped out.  “You?”

“Never,” Linda shrugged happily.  “But the show has to go on anyway!” She laughed.  “The show has to go on, Claire – and it’s curtain call.”

Claire watched her go.  She was sort of an odd woman, but who in this town wasn’t odd?  They’d all seen too much.  Claire wondered briefly what she’d thought of the apocalyptic zombie uprising that had happened here a while ago, but it was fleeting.  Because they were all a little odd, but they still had a show to put on, and she could not for the love of fuck let Jody down.  So Claire opened up her binder to the first page of the script, and watched as the opening chorus gathered behind a closed curtain and the audience applauded as Linda finished giving her opening remarks.  Claire took one last deep breath and said into her headset,

“Alright.  Curtain.”

xXx

When all was said and done, after Claire and the rest of the tech crew had taken their bows, Claire supposed she could call the evening a success.  She doggedly avoided looking at any of her family, though, for fear she might see them all shaking their heads in disappointment or crying tears of joy because she finally managed to do something halfway normal with her time (though, she was learning more and more that the world of theatre was pretty far from normal.)  And when she ducked backstage to start getting everything cleaned up so that tomorrow night’s performance would go smoothly, she even got congrats from Conrad Birdie and some of his little fangirls.  Hugo stopped by, too, and actually _thanked_ her, which made her heart flutter a little bit (but she’d been ignoring such flutters ever since Kaia.  It was like she was making a conscious effort to stay unhappy.)

Headset put away and binder in hand, Claire pushed through the throngs of people backstage – girls in full makeup and various stages of undress hugging each other, the sound of character shoes click-clacking against the tile, snatches of a few bars from _The Telephone Hour_ – so she could make a discreet getaway, but that wasn’t in the cards for her tonight, it seemed.  It was stupid of her to even expect it because Jody had given her a ride.

All seven of them (seven!) were standing off to the side in the lobby, looking like the moteliest of crews.  Castiel looked like he always did, which was a comfort; Sam had opted for a blue button-down and Dean a white one with his sleeves rolled instead of their usual flannel (but they were still wearing jeans); Donna and Jody looked as if they’d used the occasion as an excuse to dress more feminine, get out of their sheriff, do-gooder garb.  Patience – the ever sunshiny Patience – saw her first, and started waving enthusiastically to her.  Like Claire would be able to miss them.

They were silent as she approached, watching her carefully, but looking just about ready to burst.  Everyone except Alex – who had her arms crossed over her chest and was smiling coolly – and Castiel, who for whatever reason looked a little in over his head, a bit overwhelmed.  Claire came to a sudden halt in front of them, clutching her Binder of Knowledge to her chest, and just…held her breath.  Why did she get the feeling that this group would be particularly brutal?

“Hey,” she greeted.  The tension…it was like they were waiting for an A-bomb to drop.  “So…?”

They were _so_ fucking with her.  Seven people (well, six – Castiel just sort of…stared at her with a content, searching look on his face) exchange glances and little smirks before absolutely exploding.  Donna grabbed her up first, and then Patience, and Claire could barely react.  She usually got the bad type of attention.  And Jody said that they _had_ to go to dinner to celebrate, and Claire vaguely just what they were celebrating in the first place, and then she remembered.  And also decided that there was more to celebrate than a play not spectacularly failing.  Jody was probably patting herself on the back right now, thinking she’d done a pretty good job of wrangling Claire.  The girl didn’t have the heart to tell her that she knew what she’d done, that she was halfway grateful, and that it wouldn’t last forever. 

But it could last for now.

Claire sat next to Cas in the restaurant.  Sam had so many technical questions.  Dean wanted to pretend like he didn’t care, but he could be seen mouthing along to the score silently as he pored over the menu.  There was something so ordinary about the seven of them sitting in a family diner, chatting with each other with a comfort that suggested they’d all known one another since the Big Bang, that gave Claire the oddest feeling.  This was usually the point where she’d want to run away; not so much this time.  If anything, she just wanted to observe.

“I like to listen to them,” Castiel said quietly to her.  Claire felt herself nod.  “Good conversation is like good music.”

Claire swallowed past a sudden lump in her throat and pushed forward.  “Did you think the music tonight was good?”

He thought it was wonderful.  He thought it was so wonderful, that his enthusiasm for it drew the attention of the entire table, and they all listened to the Listener.  Dean looked bored but nearly amused, and Sam asked questions.  They were much more used to bantering with an angel, though.  Jody glanced at Claire with a quirked eyebrow that seemed to say it all.  So many cosmic tumblers had to fall perfectly into place to create this scene: two sheriffs, two hunters, a nurse, a psychic, an angel, and a part-time stage manager sat together in a diner over fries and sandwiches listening to said angel talk about soundwaves and harmonies. 

It was the start to a pretty good joke, for sure, but such a lovely scene that Claire felt compelled to stay just a little longer and let the beast inside her quiet.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at @captain-sodapop, and on FFN at the same pseud. The artwork was done by the lovely @DYlogger, who you can also find on tumblr at @dylogger. Thank you so much for reading this work, and please be sure to support the other artists and authors who participated in this awesome challenge!


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